


Keith's Survival Guide on How to date Lance McClain

by Stickyouinawormhole13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Enemies to Lovers, Gay Keith (Voltron), Humor, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, I'mtryinghardonhumor, Idiots in Love, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Love/Hate, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Shiro is Tired, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), WhatTheFuckJustHappen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-10 14:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12301059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stickyouinawormhole13/pseuds/Stickyouinawormhole13
Summary: In which, Lance confesses to Keith. and Keith has no idea what he's doing. Keith shares tips and tricks on navigating the hurdles of being in a relationship with him. Any problem you can think of... Keith has a solution to surviving it. Or at least he tries to.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prologue-ish
> 
> Lance confesses and they still argue about it.

They were doing it. Again.

Pidge and Hunk stared at them, baffled how they could somehow make an argument completely out of nowhere. What exactly brought upon this current predicament?

“No way, Kogane, I definitely picked heads!” Lance debated, arms flailing in a wild manner. The people around them paid no attention; it was a daily occurrence, no longer an oddity. It always happened, the same people in the same time and at the same place.

“And I did pick heads, dumbass,” Keith growled, leaning into Lance’s personal space.

Keith could never understand Lance. He was annoying, flirty, and insecure in one pressured bottle, ready to burst. Keith usually tried to keep a calm composure to other, but somehow Lance still manage to break that wall of his. He was looking for a fight for any dumb reason that Keith can't fathom. 

Lance's face flared, either from the close proximity or fury. Nevertheless, he went even close. Sweaty foreheads against each other. “Who you calling a dumbass, dumbass?!”

“You obviously!” Keith exasperated, his fist curling. He had a very deep urge to connect it to Lance’s pointed nose, “What the hell, Lance. Why do keep trying to one up me? Do you like riling me up for some stupid reason?!”

“Well, because you keep showing off to how cool you are! You’re making look like a complete loser.”

Keith sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not trying to show off, Lance. And I don’t think you’re a loser. You have a good aim.”

“Oh my God! I hate it when you do that!” Lance cried, pulling his hair. “Well, maybe, I do think you’re cool, maybe…I just… I just…”

“Maybe you just what!” Keith was reaching his boiling point, pulling the collar of Lance’s jersey. Lance eyebrows furrowed, his lip curling.

“Maybe I just like you!” He yelled, his voice booming across the field.

The ensuing silence was stretched. Keith’s fist still holding the clothing, eyes wide. Pidge and Hunk stared at the duo with slack jaws and mouths wide open. The people in the immediate vicinity shared the same reaction.

And if it was anymore possible, Lance face flushed even more, tanned skin slowly into a glowing rosy tint, despite that he stood his ground. His cleats firmly on the ground. Keith gaped like a fish out of water, a rising red slowly creeping on his neck before settling on his cheeks. He let go of his hold, and Lance fell back slightly from the sudden lack of it.

“I-I-I…”

Pidge whispered into Hunk’s ear, “Oh my God, this is like a start of some gay Fanfiction.”

“I’d totally give some kudos,” Hunk whispered back.

“Uhm,” Keith fumbled his words, and stared back into Lance’s deep-blue ocean eyes, a sudden resolve entering his veins. “Maybe I like you too!”

“Oh, really, Mullet?” Lance said, unconvinced.

Keith averted his eyes, facing warming. Cheeking turning in violent shade of red.

“Maybe I liked way before you liked and I never I noticed because you were being such an asshole,” Keith choked out.

“Nuh-uh! I liked you so much that I turned half-gay! Because of you, you fucking dick!”

Keith suddenly felt the anger creeping up again, the want to strangle Lance, and at the same time colliding their lips together until they were raw and numb. “That’s both offensive and so fucking gay at the same time!”

“Yeah, you have that fucking effect on me, Kogane!” Lance roared, going closer, and closer. “You leave me in such a stupid love-sick mess.”

“Jesus Christ, Lance!” Keith infuriated, his fingers twitching to reach his neck. “It’s just a crush!”

“Hell yeah, it’s a crush. A stupid massive crush on you and your fucking greasy mullet!”

“Oh my fucking God, you dumb idiots,” Pidge yelled, growing even more tired and irritated. “Do you really have to argue about who likes who even more!? Just fuck already!”

They both glared at brown haired girl, their faces a combination of annoyance, embarrassment, and rage. “Pidge, shut up!”

“Stop, copying me!” They yelled, facing to each other. Pidge rolled her eyes, standing up, and ready to hit the showers.

Lance pushed Keith back, and Keith taken aback returned the gesture harder. Lance pushed even more, and so did Keith. Until it was a match of pushing each other roughly, and the Lance tackled Keith onto the dirt and grass.

Lance straddled him, and Keith reddened feeling the Lance’s hard body on top of him. Lance punched him, and pulled his hair. Keith flipped them, and now Keith was on top straddling him. His fist collided on to his, seeing the blood running down his face, sliding on to his cheek, pooling on the grass.

Lance licked his upper lip, stared at Keith for the longest time, and Keith tried to maintain his heavy breathing, until Lance broke the silence, “That was so fucking hot.”

“Ok, this is where I leave, bye guys,” Hunk said, bidding them goodbye. He hulked his giant duffel on his shoulder.

Lance took opportunity of a stunned Keith and head-butted him. Keith covered his mouth, feeling a throbbing pain on his mouth. He let go and saw red smudged on his pale skin. He grabbed Lance’s bruised face, and smashed their lips together. It was awkward and fumbling. Teeth clacking against each other and there was too much tongue, and force. Keith could feel the sharp tang of iron between them. It was such a horrible utter mess.

It was so bad, that it felt so good.

“Ahem.”

Keith looked up, letting go off a dazed Lance with a thump. He saw the coach, and his ratty tracksuit, staring at him in flatly. “I think I’m tired of giving you lectures, Keith,” he sighed.

Keith gulped, “Sorry.”

“Principal’s office, now,” the coaches said, and then glanced at the limp boy on the ground. “And bring your boyfriend to the nurse.”

“He’s not my—“ Keith stopped, and he reassessed his situation. He was on Lance’s lap, straddling his, sides, totally messed up hair from making out, and the tingling sensation on his lips. That totally means they were boyfriends.

Right?

Shit, he totally needs to talk to Lance about this.

And maybe sock him in the face.

Probably, or hopefully, with his mouth.

He really should talk about him. He guessed, for now, that they unofficially in a relationship. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith wonders whether Lance is his boyfriend or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the cheesiest thing i ever wrote.

After dragging Lance’s unconscious ass to the clinic, a week long detention, and followed by a very _very_ long lecture from Shiro.

 

Keith was sitting in the same spot, eyes glued to the computer screen. The small black words were read like billboard. The rims of his eyes were burning. Keith didn’t know if it was due to staring at screen unblinkingly for almost an hour or if it was actually statement. Keith’s mind surprisingly was blank, considering the utter disaster that was disturbing his thought process.

 

So here’s the thing, Keith doesn’t like social media. It was annoying and a waste of time for his part. Not like he holds any ill will to _The Facebook_ or any particular social network. This is why he’s not into this programming shit, that’s more on Pidge’s forte anyways. _Sorry Markzuckerberg, your website sucks._

 

Keith did not have any type of social networking site, believe or not. The only e-mail account he had was Shiro’s old Yahoo mail. Not to mention his older brother's embarrassing username and mails from questionable sites. Keith will spare Shiro from the humiliation for he was a good brother and it was potential blackmail. Anyways back to the point.

Keith immediately went to his room, booted up his prehistoric computer (he hoped his parents would eventually buy him a better model, but from the events that happened previously—it was unlikely.), and created a facebook account. Here he was was staring at Lance’s profile (seriously? A fucking shirtless selfie, flaunting his abs, and Keith was absoluetely NOT drooling at the sight of it), scrolling through every post until he stopped to something that caught his attention, and led to him in this pathetic state.

 

 **_Lance McClain_ ** _is single._

 

And yeah, Keith could change it if he could.

 

KEYWORD: _COULD_

Okay, listen, Keith didn’t talk to Lance for about a week. He’s done an amazing job of avoiding him. Be it seeing him in the hallways and booking the fuck out of there, or seeing him only in a towel in the locker room while he lingered at his sun-kissed and glorious body—then quickly leaving despite him smelling like rotten gym socks. Or that time he threw a basket ball at his perfectly sculptured face at gym class, good thing Lance didn't figure out that was him.

 

God damn it.

 

Keith has to be honest, he never ever saw Lance as any sort of relationship other than an annoying little shit. For Christ sake, they weren’t even friends! And just suddenly he was shoved with Lance’s apparent huge crush on him. But Keith didn’t really dislike Lance, per say. He did find him to be a good soccer player, and _yes, Lance, I know you’re Cuban, I’ll call it football for your sake_ , and he had a decent aim.

 

And Keith would never admit it, but they did make a good team.

 

And so, we’re back to square one.

 

WHAT THE FUCK IS HE GOING TO DO?!

 

Keith has decided that Facebook was the epitome shitty-ness and stupidity. He didn’t understand this time-line crap they were shoving to his face. And what the hell are these pop-ups? He doesn’t the money or time to buy whatever the shit they were selling.

 

Keith quickly exits the window, just in case Shiro makes a surprise visit from his university. God knows how many years would shed from his life if anyone found out him stalking the absolute fuck out of Lance fucking McClain. Call it an obsession or what, Keith will always deny it.

 

So whatever. It’s stupid. So fucking stupid that Keith wants to log in his old MySpace account that Keith lied about deleting because apparently it was the most embarrassing thing anyone could have. Keith wanted to rant everything that transpired to an empty audience.

 

Keith spun his chair like a merry-go-around, his vision obscured as he continued to resolve the calamity in his thought process. He counted the very few things he knew about Lance.

 

  1. He laughs like a hyena on meth
  2. He makes cancerous pick up lines
  3. He has a huge-ass family
  4. He’s Cuban
  5. He’s a walking meme
  6. Keith turned him _half-gay_
  7. Lance is bi (see above)
  8. He has a nice smile
  9. His family and friends are the most important thing to him
  10. He has pretty eyes—and shit Keith totally likes him.



 

FUCK

 

And as he realized it, Keith fell of his chair.

 

**

 

Keith found Lance in the library. He slowly treaded to him, hiding behind bookshelves. He inched forward, trying to not make a sound. Lance was reading a book, notes strewn across the table. He was chewing on his pen, showing his pearly-white teeth. Keith quickly admired him. Yeah, he was being a creep.

“Did you want something, Keith?” asked Lance, jarring him. Keith yelped loudly. He quickly uttered an apology from the people shooting irritated looks. Keith bit his lip, and sat on the chair across him.

 

“Uhh, so…” Keith started, tapping on the table nervously. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For avoiding me? For punching me?” interrupted Lance raising an eyebrow until he averted his eyes, staring behind him. “Or you’re here to reject me? I mean I get it—”

 

“No!” Keith yelled, and once again people glared at him. Keith glared back, and they swiftly backed down from his stare.

 

Lance sighed, looking bored. “Sometimes I wonder why I like you.”

 

“Look—I just, damn it, Lance,” Keith hissed through his teeth, “You just sprang this on me so suddenly. I mean you hated me.”

 

“I did hate you. For a while,” Lance muttered, picking his nails. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

 

“Okay. Fine.” Keith gritted out, “ I’m sorry for avoiding you and punching you—which by the way was your fault too and I think you called me hot for doing it.”

 

Keith was proud to see the creeping flush in Lance’s neck.

 

“And…I’m not here to—“ he paused, swallowing, “reject you.”

 

Lance eyes widened. The blush slowly settled on his cheeks. He quickly covered his face with hands. He ducked down and murmured something Keith couldn’t understand. Again, Keith took pride in giving this effect on Lance. Who would’ve thought?

 

Quirking the corner of his mouth, he pried Lance’s hands away from his face, ignoring his protests.

 

“Hey, I can’t understand what your saying if you do that,” Keith chided.

 

Lance let go of his face, his teeth clench together, but his blue eyes bored into Keith’s purple ones. “I said I’m so happy.”

 

Keith face heated. His heart skipped a beat. He was speechless.

 

Lance sensing this, grinned. He grinned until it reached his ears, gums and all. Keith figured this was prettiest thing he has ever seen, but he’s not telling this to Lance, but maybe some day.

 

“I’m really happy,” he declared, enjoying the way Keith’s pale face slowly becoming a pinkish shade. “Dude, you’re look like ice-cream right now. Like strawberry and vanilla next to each other.”

 

“Shut up, Lance.” Said Keith.

 

“Why don’t you make me, mullet?” Lance uttered, giving him a coy look. He leaned over the table, and Keith was overcome with his shadow. He felt Lance’s heated breath fan his cheeks.

 

“No sexual activities in the library,” interrupted the librarian. She glared at the two now-flustered boys. She sauntered away with a scoff that suspiciously sounded like ‘at least they have their clothes on’.

 

Keith coughed and Lance inched away form Keith’s personal space. Lance settled in his seat and read his book again. Keith idled in his seat not knowing what to do. Were they boyfriends now? Once again, he asked himself. He really should ask Lance. He decided he would wait until the boy finished with whatever he would be doing. Keith grabbed his phone and plugged in his earphones and played some good ol’ MCR.

 

He heard a snort.

 

He narrowed his eyes, “What?”

 

“Nothing, nothing.” Lance drawled, writing something on his notebook. “Just didn’t think you would actually be so typical.”

 

He pursed his lips and said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“You look like some DeviantArt OC,” Lance quietly laughed, “I mean it’s cute and all, but it’s just so typical.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Maybe later,” Lance winked.

 

Keith choked.

 

Lance sighed, ruffling his hair. Keith had the sudden urge to touch the feathery and soft looking.

 

“Ugh, I don’t get this.”

 

“Get what?”

 

“English lit,” Lance whined, his face planting on to the desk.

 

“Dude, that’s not so bad,” said Keith, raising an eyebrow. It really wasn’t. Scarlet letter was actually pretty interesting in his opinion. He actually read the book, instead of watching the Demi Moore version with the fake british accent.

 

“Ugh, you don’t have Haggar as a teacher though,” he said, voice muffled.

 

Keith winced, “I’ll pray for you?”

 

Lance lifted his head forlornly, “Keith, my man, she stapled McDonald’s application forms on my test. I think she’s trying to tell me something.”

 

Keith laughed, genuinely, and Lance stared at him weirdly. “That’s hilarious.”

 

“Har har,” Lance stated flatly.

 

“Okay, I’ll help you out,” Keith snickered. He reached over his notes.

 

Lance fanned himself, imitating a swoon. “I have the most amazing boyfriend ever.”

 

_THUMP_

“Keith!? Holy shit! Don’t bleed over my notes!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When dealing with Lance over-affectionate tendencies, you must never ever complain or bitch about it. Especially the pet names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: angst
> 
> sets two months after.

When Lance all of the sudden greets Keith in the mornings with a peck on his cheek, talking to him in breaks, holding his hand in the hallways, and go as far calling him with fucking cutesy pet-names. Their first date was cheesy as hell too, someplace in the park with a picnic Lance prepared by himself, not that Keith would complained (he secretly loved it).

 

It was inevitable for people to started making guesses.

 

Everyone was just as perplexed as Keith.

 

Keith as much as he loves being pampered with Lance’s affectionate side of him, he did not appreciate when he did it in public. He gets it, he really does. Lance loves having attention, and as his boyfriend, he has to provide that much. Too bad that he seem pretty inadequate in that department. Keith tries to level with him, but he can't do it without feeling embarrassed or looking like a giant tomato. It was a wonder how Lance could say all these cringe-worthy things without any shame. 

 

“And what did I tell him? You can’t just borrow my bike, and just crash it in a ditch!” Lance went on his tirade, provided with his dramatic hand gestures. “I can’t believe him. What a dick, right babe?”

 

Keith hummed in agreement. Trying to appease Lance’s need for justification for his sister’s—Oh wait, he was talking about his brother.

 

“Babe, are you even listening to me?” Lance said, looking irritated. “God, you’re like a zombie.”

 

“No, I was. Marco was being annoying,” Keith glanced at Lance, seeing him analyzing his every word. Keith has to play it cool. He didn’t want to be subject to Lance’s nagging about his lack of attention again, “Right?”

 

“I was talking about Tony,” Lance crossed his arms. Fuck.

 

“Sorry, I was having a blonde moment,” Keith apologized, hoping to whatever higher being that the corners of his mouth were turned up, and not with his premature scowl he has since birth.

 

“Jeez, Keith,” he said, narrowing his eyes. Blue eyes like cat slits. “At least tell me you aren’t listening or even remotely interested in what I’m saying.”

 

“Well, okay then.”

 

Lance made a frustrated sound, banging his head on the locker next to him. Keith wondered if Lance continued to that he would lose more brain cells even more than getting soccer balls to the face.

 

The shrill sound of the school warning bell stopped Lance continuous head banging on the locker. He checked his watch, and sighed.

 

“Ugh, She-devil time.”

 

“Haggar?” Keith asked, lifting his backpack onto his shoulder.

 

“What else?” Lance groaned, covering his face. "I'm going to go now before she throws a chair at me." He looked up to Keith, staring at him expectantly. This goes on for a while. Keith feels mildly annoyed for waiting for his reply.

 

“What?”

 

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye or something?” Lance said confusedly, biting his pinkish lips until it turns into a bloody hue.

 

Keith’s face heated, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Look Lance,” Keith wills himself not to sigh, or seemingly condescending. He doesn’t like it when Lance is like this. It’s especially hard when there’s a flash of hurt on his face, “I’m really not into that kinda _stuff_. I mean, I’m not a PDA dude. I don’t want to be one of those couples flaunting their relationship, you know? Actually, I kind of hate it.”

 

Lance was quiet for a moment, and then said, “Like kissing or hugging or even holding hands? That kinda stuff?”

 

“Pretty much,” Keith said simply. After a beat, and added lamely, “I’m sorry.”

 

Lance gave him the _look_. The look when people thought that you were being stupid, and that he probably does see Keith as that. It was hypocritical of Keith, since he always gave the same look to Lance in a daily basis.

 

With pursed lips, Lance said, “You’re my boyfriend.”

 

“I’m aware,” Keith raised a thick eyebrow, “Thanks for telling me though.”

 

“I’m not trying to flaunt our relationship,” The fucking hurt look appeared again. Keith felt his gut clench at the sight of it. “ I’m doing this because I like you. I like doing these things with you.”

 

“Lance—“

 

“Do you really feel that way?” Lance gritted out, eyes glazed over. “Do you?”

 

_What the fuck is with all these questions?_ Keith thought. He looked everywhere but Lance, and noticed some people whispering. Obviously talking about it. The last thing he wanted was making a scene.

 

“Lance, c’mon, people are watching,” Keith muttered quietly.

 

“Fine,” Lance says, which sounded not fine at all.

 

“Hey!” Keith shouted, as Lance started briskly walked away. He tried to follow him, but the damn cluster-fuck of people blocked him from doing. He cursed, and decided to go to his own damn class. He’ll talk to him tomorrow. For now he’ll leave Lance alone to cool down.

 

He fucked up.

 

**

 

When the next day rolled in, Keith waited patiently by Lance’s locker, leaning against the locker next to it. He scrolled through his text messages and not one from Lance at all. He didn’t even blow up his phone with memes last night.

 

Keith sighed. He tapped on Lance’s last message to him, which was bright red heart emoji. He watched it forlornly.

 

“Keith? Why are you looking constipated?”

 

Keith looked up. Lo and behold, there was Lance looking completely normal and not to mention talking to him normally as if they didn’t have that god-awful conversation yesterday.

 

Keith shook his head, putting his phone back into his pocket. “I wanted to say sorry.”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Yeah, for upsetting you.”

 

“Nah it’s cool, man,” Lance said, waving his hand dismissively. “I gave a lot of thought about, and I realized it wasn’t fair for me to do things that were uncomfortable to you.”

 

“Um…thanks,” Keith said awkwardly, “I guess.”

 

“Yeah, what are bros for?” which somehow made Keith’s chest feel tight for some reason. The bell rang, signaling for homeroom.

 

“Well, I go to go.” Lance said, pointing to the corridor opposite to Keith’s class, “See you.”

 

Keith waited for the inevitable, and closed his to feel the soft lips to land on his cheek. He kept waiting until it felt like forever for Lance to do it.

 

“Lance, aren’t you—“

 

He wasn’t there anymore.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Through out the day, Lance hasn't even done anything at all. Hasn't held his had, kissing in between breaks, or pressing his lips on his knuckes, or tucking his a stray behind his ear. Which would have annoyed Keith if he did anything like that, but somehow he felt even more annoyed now Lance hasn't even done anything that involved touching him. It was as if they weren't dating at all. Like they were just being stupid rivals again. 

God, he must be going crazy. He sort of missed the pet names.

 

He has to find a way to solve this.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Dude! Guess what?” Lance asked, bouncing on the balls on his fit. An ear-splitting grin was on his face. His fingers twitch in excitement. He looked an over-joyed hyperventilating Chihuahua.

 

Keith was surprised to find Lance by his locker again, but he sighed in relief. The usual peppy Lance was back. He spent the entire first period thinking about this morning. He closed his locker, shouldering his backpack. “What is it? Did you manage to find your lush cream?”

 

“Unfortunately, no,” He said with a pout, “but I guess this is a news equally as good.”

 

Keith raised an eyebrow. He crossed his arms, leaning against the door of his locker. “Let’s hear it.”

 

Lance dug through his backpack, rustling through the piles of paper. Then he grabbed the item he was looking for and shoved it to Keith’s face. “You see this?”

 

“A test?” Keith answered, and then he moved even closer, squinting his eyes.

 

“Not just any test, mullet,” Lance boasted, a smirk on his face.

 

Curse his horrible eyesight. It was a wonder how he still manage to play soccer. He’d have to bring out his big nerdy glasses from middle school. He managed to accidentally slip his last pair of contacts in his sink. How the hell is he going to play with specs from the 70’s?

 

“I can’t see shit,” Keith said. “I left my glasses.”

 

Lance widened his eyes, and then snickered. “You wear glasses? I’d pay to see that.”

 

“Come over to my house then,” Keith said simply or he tried to. He willed his voice to sound nervous. Hoping to get at least reaction from him. Anything at all.

 

“Sorry, I have to rain check,” Lance said, not even looking at Keith, he scrolled his through phone. “I need to meet up with English Lit partner for this project.”

 

“Oh,” Keith tried not to sound disappointed. Instead he shrugged nonchalantly, “well, maybe next time?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Lance muttered absent-mindedly. He was texting on his, not even sparing a glance. There was a sound of ping, and Lance let out quieted chuckle. Keith could feel his face flaring, but he maintained the cool and composed façade. The last he’d want to was to be jealous at all especially if it was with Lance who has the epitome of a drama queen.

 

“Who you texting?” Keith said, trying to take a peek at the screen.

 

Lance pocketed his phone he could see anything, and shrugged. “Nah, just my partner.”

 

“Hm,” Keith hummed, his feet fidgeting. “Who is it?”

 

“Who’s what?”

 

Keith gave him an irritated look. Lance didn’t even flinch. Usually he’d start making a big deal out of it until they had a screaming match and then ending up making out in the supply closet.

 

“Your partner,” He said, as he gnashed his teeth together. He could hear his molars crushing against each other.

 

“Oh, it’s just Nyma,” and Lance had the decency to scratch the back of his neck.

 

“Your ex,” Keith said slowly.

 

“Yeah, I mean there wasn’t any bad blood between us,” He said, gesturing his hands. Keith’s scowl deepened. Lance seemingly unaware with the raging storm inside Keith’s jealous mind. “Despite stealing my car and hand-cuffing to a tree, we still manage to be friends after that. Go figure.”

 

“But, Lance,” he seethed, clenching and unclenching his fist. Fingernails digging into his palms embedding half moons onto the skin, “she’s _your ex.”_

 

“Yeah, I know,” Lance looked at him warily as if sensing a wild dog ready to bite. “Is there a problem with that?”

 

Keith gawked, letting out an exasperated sound. “How many times do I have to tell you? She’s your fucking ex.”

 

Lance stared at him for a moment, then smirked. “My, my, Keith. I didn’t know you’re a jealous type.”

 

“I’m not,” he scoffed.

 

Lance let out a snort, jutting a hip, resting his hand on it. “You totally are.”

 

“Ok hypothetically if I was jealous, which I’m not, it would be justified that I’d me a bit upset about you hanging out with a girl who not only was your girlfriend, but also someone you had sex with.”

 

Lance sighed through his nose, scratching his cheek, “So? I’m not going to do anything.”

 

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Keith said, and he willed his mouth to shut the fuck up right now, “Given your rambunctious and frivolous actions, I wouldn’t be surprised at all.”

 

Lance stared at him blankly, then said loud and clear to Keith’s ears, “did you just call me a slut.” And that wasn’t a question. It was hard cold statement. Even ice wouldn’t melt.

 

“Uh.”

 

Lance glared at him. “Keith, I know that we weren’t friends before, and that you hated my guts. But just because we’re dating, that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole like back then. There’s a line for that, and you just crossed it.”

 

Lance tried to walk away, but Keith grabbed his hand, “Wait—“

 

“Don’t fucking touch me, Keith,” Lance said, wrenching his hand away as if he was just burned by him. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Not holding my hand in public and shit?”

 

“I know I was out of line, but hear me out,” He tried not to sound panicky. Holy shit, he didn’t know relationships were this hard. They weren’t fucking lying.

 

“No, why don’t hear me out for once, God knows how much you haven’t been paying attention to whatever I say anyways,” Lance heatedly said, sharply turning back to him. Keith felt his body go cold when he saw Lance’s usually pretty and blue eyes turn into some hurricane, “Fuck you, and talk to me once you get your mullet sorted out.”

 

Keith watched him leave once again, feeling his eyes burn a bit. He rubbed them furiously with his sleeve.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Pidge, I think I fucked up.”

 

They looked at him weirdly, then returning to heating the flask. “When haven’t you?”

 

“I’m being serious.”

 

Pidge sighed, putting the flask away. “All right, Dr. Phil here. Rant away.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, “Lance is not…being Lance.”

 

“What do you mean?” resting their chin on their fist. With their glasses, lab coat and posture, it seemed he really was talking to therapist. Or maybe a marriage counselor. He grimaced. “Elaborate.”

 

“He’s not being touchy-feely or anything,” Keith said, pursing his lips. “It’s weird. Like really weird.”

 

Pidge thought about it for a while, and then nodded looking like a bobble head with their big head and small body. The thought would have made him laugh, but right now he more pressing matters to focus on.

 

“That’s very uncharacteristic of him,” Pidge assessed, and then scrunched their nose. “I mean he seemed pretty normal to me this morning. I mean he hugged which by the way I did not appreciate. You of all people should have been showered with affection as much as that disgusts me.”

 

“Exactly,” he croaked out, his throat suddenly constricting, “He doesn’t do anything to me at all! He hasn’t kissed me or even hold my hand, or that fucking annoying thing nose booping he does.”

 

“Tragic.”

 

“We do talk, I just had lunch with him,” Keith said, looking utterly exasperated. He was feeling being frustrated by this whole ideal. Lance didn’t even seem to care about the internal warfare in his head. He just continued his usual rambling about nonsense. “He hasn’t even laid a finger on me.”

 

Pidge raised an eyebrow, “So where is the part where you fucked up?”

 

Keith groaned, dropping his head on to his face. “We had an argument.”

 

“About?”

 

“I told him I didn’t like flaunting our relationship,” and he added guiltily, “and I might have called a cheating slut.”

 

“Oh, you done goofed this time.” Pidge clicked their tongue, shaking their head in disappointment. “Seriously, Keith. You’re too fucking dense.”

 

“What?” Keith raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it.”

 

Pidge sighed through their nose, “I’m just going to say that Lance takes you seriously, even if he’s ridiculous most of the time. He’s different with you. The boy did have a crush since freshman year after all.”

 

“I… don’t understand.”

 

“Idiot, he’s happy with you. He wants to be with you,” Pidge grabbed their glasses off their face, pinching the bridge of their nose. “With all those other girl he’s been dating, yeah, he was flaunting them. Not only to boost his ego, but to get you to notice him or even acknowledge his existence to you.”

 

“Wait, what?”

 

“After Lance confessed to you, I realized the fuck boy thing he’s going with was just a way to get you to notice him. Apparently good or bad.”

 

“What…an idiot,” Keith looked up, but a wobbly smile on his face.

 

“Ok, ew,” Pidge scooted away from him, working back to the experiment, “please don’t do that. Or at least not in front of me.”

 

“He is such an idiot, fuck,” Keith laughed, a bit hysterical. “Well, I guess he’s my idiot.”

 

“You got that right,” they snorted.

 

“So this thing he’s doing is some sort of payback.”

 

Pidge hummed. “In my opinion, it’s one massive ‘go fuck yourself.”

 

“Anyway, maybe I’m asexual like you?” Keith said, the thought occurring to him.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Keith. I’ve known you since middle school.”

 

“So?”

 

Pidge gave him a flat look. “You told me you wanted to lick chocolate off Hugh Jackman when we watched Wolverine. I’m pretty sure you’re fucking gay.”

 

“Huh,” Keith bemused, “Looks like I’m gay for lance.”

 

“Again, ew,” they said before they added a drop of some green substance in the bubbling flask.

 

And then it exploded.

 

**

 

Catching Lance was a difficult task. Lance avoided him like they were playing a game of Pac-man. Keith went to every hallway, every classroom, until he saw the familiar olive green jacket pushing through the glass doors.

 

He sprinted towards, feeling adrenaline and determination in his veins. Before Lance could slip into his car, Keith shouted, “LANCE!”

 

“Keith?”

 

He ran towards him, panting. His breath coming in short gasps, he held out a hand to give him a minute. Thankfully, Lance waited patiently to what he had to say.

 

“I’m sorry for being a dick. You didn’t deserve it,” Keith croaked out. His sweat beading down his forehead. He licked his lips, feeling them splitting, “and I’m sorry for everything. Just, shit, Lance I miss you. I miss you touching me and I don’t give a shit what people think or talk about us. Hell, I miss you calling me those dumb pet names.”

 

Lance swallowed, “That’s…a lot to take in.”

 

“I can wait. Just tell me when it sinks in,” Keith said, catching his breath.

 

Lance let out a shaky breath, his lip quivering, “You’re are such a fucking asshole. I don’t even know why I’m in love with your ass.”

 

Keith froze, his eyes widening like plates, “Y-you love me?”

 

Lance looked away in shame, his cheek reddening. “Yeah,” he uttered quietly, “I love you,” repeated, “I’ve loved you since I first saw you, and I may haven’t realized it yet, but I did.”

 

Keith shuddered, “I can’t say it. Not now anyways.”

 

Lance looked so _fucking_ heartbroken. Keith felt his own heart shatter just seeing him.

 

“But I will, I fucking promise I will,” Keith declared with a rasp, “Just not now, when I feel like I deserve saying it. And when you can believe me when I say it. This…situation isn’t the best.”

Lance looked like he was about to burst into tears, and laughed. “When will that be?”

 

“When the timing’s right, when everything is amazing and perfect, and when you deserve the best out of it. Okay?”

 

Lance sniffled. “Okay.”

 

“Don’t fault in our stars me, you ass,” Keith chuckled, wanting to hug the shit out of Lance and pepper kisses all over his pretty face. “That movie was awful.”

 

“Hey, I liked it!”

 

“Do you…wanna watch it?” Keith said cautiously, still not sure if they weren’t treading thin ice anymore, “Like later or something. There’ll be popcorn and stuff.”

 

“Yeah, _stuff_.” And Lance somehow can turn anything sound sexual, “I’ll text Nyma for a rain check.”

 

“So we cool?”

 

“We cool.”

 

There was a momentary silence, only the sounds of the birds chirping in the distance. “So…can we make out in your car now?”

 

“You ask a lot of questions.” Lance muses, grabbing his, rubbing his knuckles. Keith reveled in it. He is so not going to stop this. Never again. He had enough with this torture. “And you didn’t need to ask for that one.”

 

Keith grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short NSFW chapter. 
> 
> In which, Keith gets pissed off with Lance. And Lance tries to make amends.

“Oh, babe, c’mon!” Lance whined, trying to match with Keith’s pace. His face was flushed. Embarrassment rolling in waves.

“Lance,” Keith hissed, trying to preserve his dignity, “that was not funny.”

“Oh, c’mon, it was plenty funny,” Lance said, a lecherous smile on his face, “I think my boyfriend looks cute with those extra short shorts.”

“Don’t be nasty,” Keith chided, nudging his shoulder against him.

“I can’t be nasty when you haven’t let me touch your dick, jack ass.”

Keith sighed, rubbing his temples. “For the last time, Lance. I can’t do it when Shiro’s around for the week.”

“For what it’s worth, you have a fine ass,” Lance smirked. “What can I say? I have a weakness for a bitch face and an ass like yours.”

“That is so weird coming out of your mouth,” Keith huffed, “Jeez, who would have thought you would utter those words to me.”

“Aw, babe,” Lance leaned in towards him, but Keith pushed him back.

“Nuh-uh,” Keith said, “I’m still mad about those shorts.”

Lance groaned, then grabbed Keith’s hand kissing his knuckles. “What if I can make it up to you?”

“Like what?”

**

“Holy fuck,” Keith moaned as he fisted Lance’s hair. His grip on him was tight. His thrashed left from right from pleasure. The computer chair wobbling. Lance grabbed the sides, steadying it.

“Damn, Keith, tone it down,” Lance said, when he let go off Keith with a pop, “I got the fam downstairs.”

“What the fuck, Lance?” Keith groaned, looking like blazing wildfire. “Get back to it!”

“If you shut up, you impatient dick.”

“You’re sucking my impatient dick, and I’ll try to be quiet," Keith tugged Lance's hair softly, cradling the back of his head. Watching the red lips returning to his dick, his half-lidded eyes staring up at him. Watery blue eyes rolling like the tide. His tongue flat against the underside of his dick. Keith's breath were laboured from the sight of it. His mouth bobbed him like a goddamn lollipop.

"O-oh my god," Keith stuttered, trying to control the tightness in his gut. 

Lance moaned against him. Keith almost lost it when he felt the vibrations shooting up to him. Lance let go off him for a second, his soft hand holding the base, "Y'know for all the time you told me to go suck a dick, I never thought it would be yours," he joked.

Keith couldn't hold of the laughter that bubbled in him chest. "God, shit, same."

Lance returned to his duties, all the while his hand working against the length. He slurped at the head. Keith thought,  _that is so nasty and hot at the same time._

"Holy fuck, Lance, I'm gonna come. Holy sh—"

"Lance? we're going to Olive Garden for dinner." The boys both froze for a second, Lancing ripping his mouth off Keith, "Is Keith coming?"

Lance smiled wickedly. Licking his lips, before he dropped down back to his dick, "Yeah, Are you?"

Then he sucked him faster, giving a slight scrape of his teeth, saliva dripping. His dick throbbing, "Sh-shit…uh, Yeah, I'm c-coming!"  _his voice sounded_ _wrecked._

"Oh well, that's great!" Lance's replied, unaware of the double meaning, "I'm gonna go get the kids ready."

Then Keith exploded, his load spilling to Lance's mouth. He caught little bits of come on his chin, and scrunched his nose. "Damn, those porn make it seems so easy. This shit tastes horrible."

"Well, it is semen," Keith breathed out. 

"Want a taste?" Lance smiled, wiggling his eyebrows.

"If you fucking tongue me with that shit—" Too late Lance grabbed his face, opening his mouth forcefully. His tongue fighting against his own. Teeth clinking. Lance licking him mercilessly. 

"Oh, my god. That is so fucking gross," Keith pushed him away, "That is definitely not sexy."

"Hey, it's yours."

"Shut up, cumbreath," Keith whacked his head. "Go get ready, we both look like we just had sex."

"Technically we did," Lance smiled, nuzzling his face in the crook of his neck, "Yay for oral. Am I your first?"

Keith sighed, wrapping his arms around Lance, "Yeah," he leaned back, which was a bad decision.

They toppled on to the floor, a heap of horny teenaged boys.

 


End file.
